


My Jim

by Deepspacesexual



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Space Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepspacesexual/pseuds/Deepspacesexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock reflects on his favorite night with Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Jim

As illogical as it is, there is one memory in particular that I hold closer than others – I remember it often to make sure that my mind never decides to forget.

~*~

I had attempted to stay up until Jim’s shift was over, but my own time on the bridge had been taxing and made me tired. Alas, I had not been asleep for long when the doors swished open in their usual manner and I heard Jim involuntarily ask the door to be quiet, soon followed by the quick, jerky movements he made whenever he tried to pull his boots off in the dark. I appreciated Jim’s consideration – he kept the light off and tried to be silent, but my ears are much too sensitive for me to be oblivious to his presence. I was immediately wide awake and only kept quiet for his benefit.

My alertness was not uncommon when he was in close proximity to my being -- even when he was only my captain, every look and speech reserved only for me lit my mind on fire. In fact, Jim’s existence made me feel like I was standing on the surface of Eridani; when we touched, I felt like the sun itself. Even then – 3.6 months after we started sleeping in the same bed – I grew warmer than usual as he shrugged his shirt off and threw it to his left, which I would wake up and find draped over my desk chair as if he had meant his clothing to fall into that exact position. It was only one of the many things I loved about him.

Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed my movement and gave a grin that he assumed I could not see given the lack of light. What he failed to understand was that his smile was brilliant; that I could see it even with my eyes closed. And what I had not realized before that moment was that his happiness was also contagious, for my own mouth turned slightly upwards on its own accord; I made no attempt to stop my reaction, for not only were his human eyes unable to see in this type of environment, but Jim knew my mind and my emotions as well as I did.

He walked over to the bed and lowered himself onto his side of the mattress, although it took no time for him to position himself partially into my space, effortlessly touching his forehead to mine. We said nothing for a few seconds – seconds I did not finish counting, for half way through my calculations Jim contently sighed, sending chills down my spine. After that, any other thought was futile; all I could think was that this reaction was fascinating: even after months of moments such as this one, I still reacted to his touch as if I had never felt something so pleasing in my entire life.

“Hey,” he whispered. His voice was relaxed, but I sensed the feelings underneath – the general nervousness, the excitement, but mostly the boundless love. He was so close that I could hear the hitch in his breath after he spoke, as if he believed the universe depended on this very moment -- this quiet, shared acknowledgement in the dark. After a few seconds of silent contemplation, I decided that maybe I believed it, too.

“Hello, Jim.” My tone was neutral, but I immediately held up my hand in wait, as this was our custom; we would greet in his way, then in mine. He was as fast as usual in meeting our palms and lacing our fingers together. He lowered our hands as one, simultaneously sighing again and leaning into me, prompting me to open my arms and let him rest his body against my own. His head was right up against my chest, which muffled his speech but I understood him perfectly well.

“Today was long; it seemed like the entire crew wanted something from me. I just wanted to tell everything to stop so I could be right here with you.”

He looked up at me and I squeezed his hand in agreement. I felt like silence was the best I could offer him, for he knew that I felt the same way. As usual, there was so much I wanted to express but could not; it was as if my mind, in all of its ability to compute numbers and observations, was unable to convey emotionally charged sentences such as, “I missed you today.” I was fortunate enough to have Jim, though; while he required steady reassurance, a simple tightening of my grip told him everything he wanted to know.

It did not take long for him to finally fall asleep. His breathing became shallow but rhythmic, helping my own mind find rest as well. As I often did before I slept, I glossed over the day’s events, thus leading me to consider the past few months and how they had changed my life; at that point in time, every difference had made it remarkably better. Jim had been mine, and I was his – although I had always been his: his First Officer, then his friend, and then his lover. I remember thinking I did not want to imagine my life any other way. I was prone to thinking too far into the future, looking for complications and taking preemptive measures for the sake of security. Alas, for once I had just wanted to live in the moment, so I did. I then allowed myself to sleep, for dwelling on any one moment for too long, whether past or present, is not a productive use of time.

Now that I am forced to live my life without Jim – a reality I have endured for the past 46 days since his death – I find myself wishing for a lot of things, for utilizing my time wisely is not a main concern of mine anymore. I wish I had spoken to him that night instead of indulging myself with silence; I wish I had squeezed his hand tighter and never let him fall asleep; I mostly wish I had kissed him on his lips as humans prefer it and let him know I loved him like no other. He was the light of my life, and now I walk around the ship blindfolded, for seeing nothing is preferable to seeing the Captain’s chair occupied by someone other than Jim; the bridge empty without his voice excitedly leading us into unknowns as a child would play “adventurer” on Earth.

And although he is gone, his absence does not stop me from making amends. I have moved into another room but I still can smell his scent on all of my belongings, as if he had touched every single object I owned in all of his endless curiosity. I often wake up in the middle of night and believe I hear his feet quietly padding against the floor; I wait up every time in the hope that I will feel the mattress give underneath his weight as he prepares to lie down next to me. Even though that moment never comes, I always face the side where he used to sleep and put my hand out for him, just in case. Logic does not stop me from telling him, “I missed you today and I will miss you every day,” as I had failed to do when he was in the room to hear it.

Yes, as illogical as it is, he is the last person I speak to every night.

I will always miss my Jim. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic! Complete dribble, but I liked the idea of exploring Spock's "lack of" emotions. I cried writing this so I hope no one is too distraught out there! Anyway, thanks for reading :)


End file.
